


In the hall of the Mountain King

by candlelight27



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Fairy tail au, Folklore, Trolls, cave exploring not going well, magical au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 20:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11905728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlelight27/pseuds/candlelight27
Summary: You enter a cave, allured by excitement and a mysterious voice.





	In the hall of the Mountain King

**Author's Note:**

> This is an experiment, inspired by the song composed by Edvard Grieg "In the hall of the Mountain King". I hope you like it! I don't know where I was going with this fanfic, but here it is. If you have any suggestions, tell me!

There was a tingle in the tip of your fingers. It was thrill, so familiar in the past, now forgotten and lost in the monotony of your days. It was the delicious shadow of a real feeling which, little by little, was growing and possessing your body. The adrenaline was making its way through your veins, dissolving the hesitance. You couldn’t explain the baffling pull, nor how your will was yielding to the pure instinct.

The sharp edges of the rocks were covered with weeds. The bright green contrasted with the soft grey of porous texture. You could almost hear your name being called from the interior of the cave. That darkness pouring out of the crevice was filled with secrets you wouldn’t be able to come up with in a lifetime.

Ignoring the danger and your common sense, you entered. None of those stories about missing wanderers nor the warning signs along the way would break the spell. If you had any fear, it was buried under the weight of excitement.

Your pupils dilated promptly and after a few seconds you were able to see. There were huge structures dancing in chaos. They were scattered without order, broken, sectioned, destroyed. Your best guess was a collapse. You could taste the disappointment on your tongue as you studied the dim space: there was no way of advancing. Any entrance to further galleries must have been obstructed by the disaster.

However, the voice you thought you heard was louder. It was a whisper, an order to continue. Gulping your let-down, you complied. You had to satisfy the magical need you had been imposed.

In big steps you went over the small perimeter. You barely found a few gaps the size of your hand. If you knew what your expectations were, you would have felt how they were vanishing into thin air. Something was hidden in the heart of the mountain and it was beckoning you with silent promises, the kind your own imagination sweetened until it was a delusion.

When your eyes accustomed to the lack of light, you recognised certain marks on the ground. Their shape was similar to a shoe, certainly not yours. You followed the timid traces the person before you had made, leading you into the darkest corner.

The curling feeling on your guts was back. There was an opening between the fallen rocks.

On one side there was a sentence engraved. “Beware of the Mountain King.” You smiled to yourself, using tender memories of your childhood as a reason of those mysterious words. A game, definitely. You didn’t doubt for a second you would fit in the hole, although it was tight and your sides were poked, but you made it through.

What you witnessed would be forever burnt in your mind.

The cave was enlarged, protuberances and fissures all over the walls. Its appearance was alike to a labyrinth where nooks and alcoves traced an undecipherable map. The only smooth surface was right under your feet. A path that sank and rose along the uneven bed of stones. Awe took you hard by the throat, for the impressive stalactites must have been forming for millions of years. Ones had gathered together before the first woman ever had been born, others had broken centuries ago and showed small flower-like buds of limestone.

The voice encouraged you to keep going, and so did you. You followed the path as you admired your surroundings. Strangely, on the sides there were small lamps. The beacon to allure your unknowing soul.

You walked and walked and walked. You touched the stalagmites that dared to interrupt your way. The more you penetrated into the cave, the colder and the wetter the air was. The chill reached your bones. But you didn’t stop, not even when you slipped due to the slippery rocks, not even when you were on the brink of realising there was no going back.

You didn’t know how long you had dragged your body though the underground. Your legs were heavy and hard to move. Your chest was rising with difficulty, your mind was elsewhere. The question struck you then. “What am I doing here?”

Yet before any further thought able to dissuade your madness, a sudden change occurred.

The lights were no longer amber, but blue. The colour of the bluest sky. The stones on the floor were moving. They were stirring. An eye here, a nose there, a mouth and members. They were weird creatures, trolls of the mountain, and they all were looking at you. Panic. They tried to creep towards you, howbeit with the forces you had left you run deeper into the cave.

The more you advanced, the more obstacles you found. In your anxiousness you realised they were femurs, ribs, skulls. They cracked on your frenzied race. Tears were on the corner of your eyes. Without warning the lights were out. A shadow in front of you moved, making you fall on your knees. You smelt death.

A surprising thud of heavy boots set a crescendo rhythm to reach you.

“Welcome, my little explorer.” Said the same voice you were hearing at the beginning. You gulped, afraid of what was to come. You couldn’t hear the small monsters chasing you. But you could feel their dreadful eyes on your back. They froze into statues once again.

You finally distinguished the figure. It was breath-taking, in both the good and the bad sense of the adjective.

He appeared human. Black as coal tunic and breeches. Leather cuirass put together by tacks. Coat of mail. Menacing gauntlets and rigid, metallic boots. He was menacing and imposing. Nevertheless, his face was the worse. He was the vivid image of beauty, his azure eyes framed by dense eyelashes were wild as the sea. His every feature seemed carefully crafted into a wonder capable of competing against the most precious of gems. His mouth, rosy lips and sharp teeth, composed the smile of a hunter.

He was standing proud, looking down at you and your fright.

“I’m deeply delighted about your arrival. I hope my subjects haven’t importuned you.” He recited your name, waited for an answer, one that never came due to your astonishment. It looked like he was impatient. He was awaiting expectantly but you were ignorant of what was it. “My pardon, I have not introduced myself. I am the Mountain King, and you have entered my kingdom.”

“Are-are you going to kill me?” You found courage to ask, not minding the tremble or the hoarseness of your tone.

“No.” He chuckled. “I’m going to keep you. I kill those who enter without permission. But haven’t you heard me? I’ve been calling you. You are meant to stay.”


End file.
